


What's a Pipe Dream if You Ain't Trying to Do It?

by bubblepulp



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:00:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26551021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubblepulp/pseuds/bubblepulp
Summary: After the 2016 Rio de Janiero Olympics, Kageyama has three free days. He spends them with Hinata.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 2
Kudos: 91





	What's a Pipe Dream if You Ain't Trying to Do It?

**Author's Note:**

> Do you ever spend time looking up all the weird sex facts about the Olympics and become obsessed send tweet. 
> 
> Also since I'm perpetually late to all of Kageyama's ship days, I'm just making it Kageyama ship month and churning a few of these out. Enjoy!

“You have to be single during the Olympics. Anything else is a mistake.” The middle blocker from Argentina told Kageyama as he waited for Bokuto-san to return. They had been communicating through gestures and Google Translate because they had no shared language. Kageyama had been hoping that they could talk about volleyball tactics. But instead the middle blocker only seemed to want to talk about whatever… this was.

At the question, Kageyama crossed his arms over his chest and scowled, but the middle blocker didn’t seem intimidated at all. Apparently fearless, he even leaned closer, smiling. “So, are you single?”

It was a question he was getting often these days, in many shapes and forms. Some asks were vulgar or in variations that Kageyama hadn’t recognized until days later. If this guy had been a reporter, Kageyama could stick to his canned response of how his focus now was on volleyball. But surrounded by other Olympians, many of whom had significant others or even families, it felt like a thin and hollow excuse. The real answer was too complex to explain to others, but simple to him.

Before Kageyama could say 'no', Bokuto-san burst through the doorway. He was carrying a clear gallon sized ziplock bag stuffed to the brim with the free condoms and lube packets. Once he spotted Kageyama, he held it over his head triumphantly, like he was the monkey from the Lion King holding up Simba instead of a huge bag bursting with condoms.

Distantly, Kageyama remembered how he had been too embarrassed to grab any of the free condoms in the common area with so many people around. So when Bokuto-san had offered to snag a few for him, Kageyama had been so relieved he had foolishly agreed. It couldn't be worse than Kageyama having to make the trek himself. And Bokuto-san had seemed so _dependable_ when he had clapped Kageyama on the shoulder and said, ‘Leave it to me!’

Now, Kageyama wasn’t sure who was more surprised: him or the middle blocker who he’d been talking to.

Bokuto-san preyed on this surprised silence to gleefully shove the bag into Kageyama’s hands, ruffling his hair. “Here, you’re going to need these if you’re going to see my pupil!” Bokuto-san said with a booming laugh. Kageyama’s heart leapt up into his throat at the thought of what Bokuto-san might or might not know. He was torn between denying everything and thanking Bokuto-san when the wing spiker continued. “Coach is calling taxis for everyone now! You better hurry!”

He slapped Kageyama on the back one more time, hard enough to make his eyes water, before he noticed they weren't alone. After a few seconds of looking the middle blocker over, he nodded his head in approval. Turning back to Kageyama, he jerked a thumb towards the still speechless volleyball player. “I’ll take care of this guy for you too. Say hi to Shrimpy for me!”

Without another backwards glance, Bokuto-san threw an arm over the shoulders of the middle blocker and led him off. Kageyama could only blink owlishly after them for a few seconds, before shaking himself out of his stupor. It was only because of his prolonged close proximity to Hinata that he was able to recover from Bokuto-san at all. Then, remembering what he was holding in his hands, he flushed a bright scarlet. Stuffing the bag quickly into his duffle bag, he jogged off hurriedly to find their coach.

\----

The most that Kageyama had seen of Rio de Janeiro was the airport. He’d been too jet lagged and grumpy to appreciate it. Then he’d slept during the whole shuttle ride to the Olympic Village

Now that he was wide awake, in a taxi with the huge ziplock all but burning a hole in his duffle bag, he couldn’t help but watch the city pass by. It was bright and colorful, with artwork and the Olympic logo splashed everywhere. The streets were crowded, cars and pedestrians alike inching along. The taxi driver seemed to be cursing the whole time, putting even Yamaguchi’s potty mouth to shame.

Hinata had said that it would be better if Kageyama walked or biked since traffic was usually terrible. But for Kageyama, who still had trouble on good days navigating his way around Japan, he'd get lost in a place as chaotic as Rio in five minutes flat. Then his three free days would be wasted trying to find his way back to the stadium, much less Hinata’s apartment.

Three days… Kageyama couldn’t help but tighten his grip on his bag, anticipation and excitement coursing through him. Though they texted often and did a video chat most weeks, Kageyama hadn’t seen Hinata in over a year. There had been tepid talks of him coming home for Christmas the same year he had left, but the plans had fallen through. Mostly because if Hinata came home for Christmas break, he wouldn’t find the strength to go back to Brazil. Even though Hinata had never said anything, Kageyama could tell the first few months had been absolutely miserable for him. Most of his texts had been short and terse, his face pinched when they had talked face to face, as if he was fighting to smile but couldn’t quite remember how.

The other first years, Hinata’s family, and their third year upperclassmen had all worried sick. There had even been talks about making a trip to Brazil to check up on Hinata and lift his spirits, but Kageyama hadn’t joined in that chatter. As weird as it was, every time he saw Hinata and noticed that he was still keeping his hair short, he couldn’t be too worried. Hinata bounced back from every setback, picked fights with everyone who told him he wouldn’t amount to much, and while generally impulsive, he’d been planning this since second year. If he was taking care of himself enough to get his hair cut every few weeks, everything else would fall into place. But trying to explain that to anyone who wasn’t Suga-san or Ennoshita-san was too much work, so Kageyama hadn’t bothered.

Instead he had sent Hinata pictures of his workout routines, his volleyball journal, of his sister’s annoyed face when she saw how long his hair was getting. He was terrible at texting, but pictures were easy.

_I’m here. I’m waiting for you to catch up._

That’s what he wanted to convey with each picture. They served as reminders that even if they were twelve hours and almost 19,000 km apart, Hinata was the one that Kageyama was waiting for.

Which was why the answer to the ‘are you single?’ question was both complicated and simple. When they had talked about it briefly during their third year, when the time for Hinata to leave loomed ominously closer and closer, they hadn’t set any real rules. It had seemed unnecessary at the time, and in later conversations, Kageyama hadn’t felt compelled to ask. Rio was full of beautiful people, Hinata was social, and Kageyama knew where they would both end up. Sometimes on the same side of the net, opposite at others, but always together.

\----

“Sorry about not being able to attend the match! But they broadcasted it so many places around the city I managed to catch some of it. How many service aces did you get?” Hinata asked as he puttered around the kitchen, with a practiced ease he hadn't had before. Kageyama still couldn’t reliably make anything more complicated than instant ramen, so it was a bit fascinating to watch. Hinata's biceps shifted and flexed as he washed out the rice, before popping it into the rice cooker.

He knew Hinata would be different. Hinata always evolved in leaps and bounds, but Kageyama had a court side seat for three years to those changes. Now it seemed like there were countless little differences that Kageyama couldn’t even begin to catalog. This apartment was fairly clean, with dirty dishes drying in a dish rack, kitchen towels hung neatly on hooks, and shoes lined up in a row at the entrance. Hinata was far more tan than he’d ever seen him in his life, he’d put on a few kg of muscle, mostly in his legs and arms. He had also shot up at least 6 cm since the last time Kageyama had seen him, which closed their height gap considerably. How tall could Hinata jump now? How quick was he? What else had he learned when he’d flown on the other side of the world all by himself?

“Just three.” Kageyama said a bit sullenly, sitting at Hinata's kitchen table and nursing a cup of tea. He watched Hinata start cutting up ingredients like he actually worked in the kitchen instead of just delivering the food. He had offered to help before Hinata had laughed in his face and reminded him of the time they’d tried to make curry together. It had been the day they both had learned that throwing water on an oil fire wouldn't put it out, and was quite possibly the last time Kageyama had been allowed in the kitchen.

It had stung, but Kageyama couldn’t be too put out when Hinata was both envious and impressed by his showing. It had been a good match even if they hadn’t won, and Kageyama could say he’d learned a lot from it.

But those were thoughts he’d already noted down in his journal and he felt little need to recount them right now. Not when he was more interested in Hinata and what he’d been learning.

“You’ve kept your hair short.” Was what he wound up saying, like an idiot, and Hinata paused to touch the back of his neck a bit self-consciously, his grin bright and _knowing_. It dried out Kageyama’s mouth and he took a few more swallows of tea hastily.

“You prefer it that way, right?” Before Kageyama could sputter out an argument or an agreement, he continued nonplussed, “Besides it gets so hot here! If I let it grow any longer, it traps in all the heat.” Hinata complained, dumping all the ingredients in a pan. Once he was satisfied with the way that the dish was coming along, he sat down across from Kageyama. He reached up with a socked foot to kick lightly at the duffle bag that Kageyama had nestled in his lap, arching an eyebrow. He'd kept a tight hold on it the whole time, too nervous to put it down. “Did someone special autograph a volleyball for you? You don't have to worry about me anything, geez.”

Thinking about what was actually in his bag made Kageyama turn a bit red. Which was ridiculous because it wasn’t like there was anything new about this situation. Hinata was the first and one of the few people he’d had sex with, and while he didn’t regret anything, they’d had their fair share of embarrassing situations. When they had first agreed to start fooling around, Hinata had looked so nervous and nauseous he’d almost puked on Kageyama. Instead, he’d managed to hurl into a nearby trash can, which had been very encouraging. Another time, the condom had gotten stuck in Kageyama and they had wound up calling Suga-san in a panic. Perhaps worst of all, there’d been the one time that Tsukishima had walked in on them in the locker room. Like the jackass he was, made sure to knock loudly and announce whenever he was entering the locker room for months afterwards.

So Kageyama shouldn’t feel any sort of embarrassment from this except for how eager he was to see how much of the bag they could get through. It seemed like a challenge, even if he was sure Bokuto-san hadn’t really meant it that way. Or maybe, Kageyama thought as Hinata’s gaze turned less joking and more concerned, he was worried that Hinata wasn’t interested in such things anymore. Which was fine, they could still be rivals and friends, but Kageyama had hoped if it came to that, it would be mutual, not with one of them still left wanting.

Annoyed that he was even thinking such thoughts, Kageyama unzipped the duffle bag to put out the ziplock that had his stomach contorting into knots, setting it down forcefully on the table between them.

“Bokuto-san gave me these.” He started, glad that his voice was still pretty steady and his face wasn’t on fire, only slightly warm. 

The silence sat as heavy as the bag on the table, Hinata’s eyes widening for a moment, gobstruck, before he looked back up at Kageyama. Then back at the bag. And then he burst out laughing. The sound was enough to jar Kageyama out of his funk and immediately activate his annoyance. Scowling, he leaned forward, eyes narrowed.

“What?! Stop laughing! Hinata, you dumbass! Stop!” There was no room for nervousness or weird jitteriness with the sound of Hinata’s laughter filling up all the spaces that Kageyama had opened up for doubt. 

“There’s so many!” Hinata finally managed to wheeze out, as if Kageyama wasn’t intimately aware of how many were stuffed into that bag. “Why did Bokuto-san give you all of these?” Kageyama grumbled out an answer about them being provided for free, which only made Hinata howl out with more laughter.

It took a few shin kicks and a couple thrown punches before Hinata had settled back down, wiping the tears from his eyes. Then just as quickly as he had started laughing, he shifted into something intent, focused, and serious. It was the look he’d had before an important match, the kind that made Kageyama straighten up in his chair. 

“Do you want to see how many we can get through in three days?” Hinata asked in a low voice, sending a sharp thrill down Kageyama’s spine. He couldn’t help but grin, dropping his duffle bag on the floor, pulling Hinata in for a bruising kiss. It sent the same rush of heat through him that it always had, a crazy set that a spiker still managed to connect with, the roar of the crowd during an intense volley, the satisfaction of a service ace. With a small hum of satisfaction, Hinata opened his mouth to draw Kageyama in closer, sucking in his tongue with an obscene sound that had Kageyama half hard with the knowledge of how _good_ Hinata was with his mouth.

He made a few small noises of discontent when Hinata pulled away, eyes wide and dark, his tongue chasing at the saliva along his bottom lip. Kageyama watched the gesture hungrily, making a lunge forward to kiss him again, but Hinata’s hand on his chest stopped him.

“Wait- Let me turn off the stove.” Which was a reasonable enough request, but the amount of irritation that Kageyama felt at that one small interruption wasn’t. He waited impatiently for Hinata to turn off the stove, take the pan off of the heat, and was about to ask if he was done when Hinata turned around whip quick and snagged the huge ziplock bag. “Last one to the bedroom loses!” He called over his shoulder, Kageyama springing to action, hollering after him for being a cheater. 

Truthfully, he didn’t feel like he lost when he tackled Hinata to the bed and kissed him again. He definitely didn’t feel like he’d lost when they managed to make it halfway through the bag, the lube packets giving out long before either of them did. And on the last day, a few hours before Kageyama’s flight, when Hinata had been crestfallen and hadn’t hid it well, Kageyama met his gaze, expression solemn.

“Next time you can get all the condoms.” He said, and it had taken a moment for all the implications to sink in before Hinata was smiling and laughing again. He looked as radiant as the spotlights beating down on a court, before he let out a confident and loud “I will!”, which definitely felt like a victory to Kageyama.


End file.
